Disposable.

We live for things that are disposable: diapers, napkins, containers, cleaning products, and the like. These items are just so darn convenient because we no longer have to fix anything. Instead, we throw it away—no clean up, no preservation, and no care.  Lose something? No big deal. Just buy another.

The problem with this trend in society is that it has extended to things that are not disposable. We let homes get boarded up and rot on neighborhood lots. We throw away relationships and marriages when we get in an argument instead of forgiving and working through grievances. We throw away unwanted children when they are unplanned or too burdensome.

We also throw away the poor so we can live in “safe” communities with good schools and pretty landscapes. We cut programs and aid, hoard the jobs, skills, and education market, and attempt to create ideal communities by excluding those who do not make the cut.

BSL recently watched the gates rise along a large portion of the Cabrini Green row houses, one of the last sections of public housing left in the area. We watched as one of our dear friends was thrown away to make way for the wasteland of abandoned buildings. Will the homes be rehabbed or torn down in order to build mixed housing? No one knows for sure; the only thing we do know is that this community has been hastily scattered among the sub-par Section 8 housing that remains.  Our friend in particular, a grandmother with hard-working honor roll students, was ignored for months until one day before her Section 8 voucher would expire.  She was pressured into taking the first apartment available, in an area notorious for its drug dealing, and then forced to move through the night, being harassed by phone by the very people who would not return her phone calls previously to help her.  Rather than a human being treated with dignity and compassion, she was a nuisance that had to be removed before the plans for the row houses could continue.

This is the reality of the poor; they are pushed around and thrown away. The truth is that it is inconvenient to fix things like housing, education, healthcare, or job opportunities for ex-convicts.  It costs a comfort that we are not willing to sacrifice.  However, the landfill is overflowing. The smell of the problem will waft towards the ideal community; the chemicals will leak into the good soil. The landfill will expand.

And it has.

Poverty has spread. Countless issues such as violence, under-education, and unemployment continue to grow and gain complexity. We cannot throw people away. Their needs do not disappear.  Our friend, while removed from the premises of the row houses, still has the same needs in her new home, only exacerbated because she is left without a community to help her.

I often get asked, “How do you solve the gang problem?”  The answer is that you solve poverty.  Gangs kill and dispose of people because they are treated as though they are disposable themselves.  Litter marks the streets and lawns of the neighborhoods because the land has not been deemed to have any worth.  Teenagers drop out and throw away school because that school has not resulted in jobs for their parents and siblings.  It has resulted in welfare, jail, and death.

Until we treat the poor with dignity, how can we expect that community to succeed?

The time has come to see the value in things broken.  It is time to sift through the various parts of society that lie in ruin and heal the wounds.  Christ came not to throw away a tradition of Judaism and start over, but to heal it, and refocus the efforts of the pious towards the Kingdom.  He did not come to throw away the lost, but to save them and redirect them towards God. So too, must we use his example of courage to stand up for the poor and redirect society towards loving our neighbor.

You will be tempted to throw away something today that could easily be fixed, reused, or recycled. What can you do to take care of it instead? You will also be faced with the choice to throw a person away today. Whether it’s the homeless individual on the corner whom you ignore, a child with signs of abuse that you don’t report, or a neighborhood where you refuse to go, you will be tempted to dispose of people when it is inconvenient to help.

With God’s grace, may we have the courage today to love our neighbor instead of throw them away.

–Megan Sherrier, BSL

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God’s Time

I confess that I am a “Type A” individual. I like my schedules and my conclusions, my to-do lists and my calendars. These past two weeks have shown me that for Lent, I am apparently giving up schedules and plans. The ministry of Brothers and Sisters of Love continues to challenge me.
On Ash Wednesday, the schedule was perfect. We’d show up at the office, get a few routine tasks accomplished, and head over to Catholic Charities for Mass at 12:00 noon just before our weekly walk in the Back of the Yards. There was plenty of time to accomplish everything.

And then the phone rang.

One of our elderly friends needed transportation to make her appointment for a medical card and food stamps. She needed the medical card so she could care for her diabetes, a condition which was worsening with each day she did not have the proper treatments. The appointment was at 10:00am. It was 10:15 when she called and the clock was ticking. 20 minutes passed waiting for her at her home. 30 more minutes and we were in to see the case worker.

The case worker’s fingers moved across the keyboard as minutes slipped off the clock. At 11:30 we began the signing process. Seven painstakingly slow signatures later, we were asked to wait in the lobby until the Link card was ready. Knowing defeat, I sighed as I went through the final process. We dropped our friend off at 12:30.

Plan B. There was a Mass at Catholic Theological Union at 4:30. Since we were walking early, we thought we would be able to make it in plenty of time. If not, we could get to the Cathedral by 5:15.

During our walk we ran into dead-end after dead-end looking for the family of 22-year old Tytus who had been shot coming out of a restaurant. The community was not yet ready to talk to us. We would definitely make Mass.

Just as we were deciding to head over to CTU, our friend called needing clothes for a funeral that Friday. We picked him up, taking him to a discount clothing store he liked to find a pair of pants. Things went smoothly until we waited in line without being served. And waited. And waited. Time again evaded us and we missed both Mass opportunities.
Despite this, Mass was waiting for us at 6:30 right at the office at St. James. Though not our plan, we experienced a meaningful liturgy and reflection before we headed home. It was the Mass we needed to attend.

The next week, it was time to walk in the Back of the Yards again. There were plans for a night walk, but they fell through. I got information that there was a shooting just where we were planning to walk as a sign of peace.

Our times and schedules were not working according to plan.
The next day, however, we walked the streets at night. The same people who had given us the cold shoulder were approaching us with recognition, asking us to pray and talking about the happenings in the neighborhood. Other community members approached us with hugs, asking for rosaries and exclaiming their comfort at seeing us in the neighborhood. It was a friendly walk.

Fr. Greg Boyle states in his book, Tattoos on the Heart, that “It takes what it takes for the great turnaround. Wait for it.” In other words, things happen on God’s time. Relationships and trust develop, grace floods a community, and change happens. It does not happen how we would always like, but perhaps we are bad schedulers instead of bad ministers. Perhaps our openness to presence matters much more than our accuracy to timing.

This Lent, I invite you to take the 10 minutes that you would normally spend planning the day and say a prayer instead. Because chances are, your schedule will not go according to plan, but God’s plans will reveal themselves to you through prayer.

May we have the patience to live in God’s grace according to God’s time and not be blinded into frustration by trying to control time ourselves. It takes what it takes. Wait for it.

 

—-Megan Sherrier, BSL

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Imprisoned.

“Everything out of your pockets! Jackets and belts off! No cell phones!” We comply to the barking orders from the officers as we line up in the cold outside Division V among the girlfriends, mothers, and small children of the men held there. A four-year old, who, based on Chicago statistics probably does not know her ABC’s, has already mastered putting her arms out in the stance to be frisked by security so she can visit her dad.

There’s nothing about this process that promotes dignity or compassion. After making it through the metal detectors, pat down, background check, and a second round of metal detectors and pat downs, we are ready to visit.

We walk a mother through the process to see her son. This hassle grants the opportunity for her to spend 15 minutes shouting through a scratched-glass wall, leaning over the counter to get her ear level with the speaking hole to hear, and attempting to block out everyone else’s shouting as they talk to their own loved ones directly beside her. Despite the struggle, mother and son catch up the best they can, and laughter and jokes are shared between the two family members. It strikes me—these cages and safeguards are for this young man, beaming with a warm smile and discussing the latest book he has read. He is much more lost than he is dangerous.

He speaks to us about some of the conditions while he is locked up. There is a prevalence of inmate-on-inmate violence, unsanitary conditions, and poor food quality, among other issues. Gang members spend more time educating and recruiting inmates than they do repenting from their practices. In 2008, Cook County Jail was condemned for its poor treatment of inmates reaching unconstitutional levels (Full Report here: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/18/us/18cook.html). While the jail has no doubt improved since then, it is not a model for humane treatment.

It is a nightmare that no parent would want their child to endure.
This is not an inspiring type of place, full of mentoring, role models, or life-changing programs for our inmates. It is a place that strips a person of their dignity.
How many people have you heard of were arrested once, served for several years, and then had a great, criminal-free life afterwards? While there are no doubt some exceptions, most re-emerging to society are angry, without opportunities, and seek solace among those who have faced similar conditions.

Other parts of our penal system create the same issues. Court cases are granted numerous continuances that drag cases on for months, straining the wills of both sides. The object of the prosecutor is to prove the defendant is beyond hope to change. Trials expose the worst as traumatized victims are torn to shreds by the defense. Meanwhile, ex-felons hustle on the streets because they are prevented from getting a real job, despite having “paid their debt to society.”

How did we decide as a nation that this was the best solution to the problem of crime? While the system is not necessarily unjust, it is certainly not helpful in rehabilitating young men. While there absolutely needs to be a justice system, the current one seeks punishment more than justice. Is our goal punishment or correction? While we cannot ignore the dangers of criminals, we also cannot correct without compassion and forgiveness.

Right now, inmates are not the only ones imprisoned. We are imprisoned by our inability to find restorative justice methods aimed at reconnecting “lost ones” back into society. Jesus calls us to take an active part in caring for our lost members, and these members need hope that they can belong.

–Megan Sherrier, BSL
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Loving the “Lost Cause”

He approaches us every Wednesday as we walk. The encounter begins with some form of harassment aimed at Brother Jim: throwing a football at his back, tugging at his denim habit, or asking repeated questions, perhaps. The projected toughness of this ten-year-old mirrors that of his only role models—the young men who control the streets of Back of the Yards, hardened on the outside to any childhood desire that was left unfulfilled.

Unfortunately, it is not the first or even the hundredth time that I have looked into the eyes of a child and seen the rage of a bitter old man. In yet another case of a child drowning in the system of poverty, violent neighborhoods, a drug-abusing parent, and failing schools, this young friend has learned defiance at any early age. Refusing to listen to authority or participate in school, he chooses instead to project an image of an independent soul who needs no one. He is protecting himself from the vulnerability of trusting adults who do not fulfill his needs.

However, he is not lost. There is a small glimmer of hope in his actions; He cries out for attention from Brother Jim. Despite his defiance to adults, he still wants to be loved by them. Last Wednesday, when Brother Jim offered him a chapter book, his demeanor changed completely. The childish voice returned: “You gonna bring me a book next week?! I like adventure.” Cautiously optimistic, this boy is testing whether or not Brother Jim can be trusted.

We can see the trajectory of this child, and it does not look good. And yet his parents, teachers, and mentors feel lost at finding a solution that changes his path. Can you really be too far gone at age 10?

When have we decided that it is too late to act? States give up in 3rd grade; they track literacy test scores of this age group to plan prison populations. The practice is accurate enough to be useful. Leading psychologists give up as early as age 3, when they believe that certain behavioral development of the brain is set in stone.
It has been my experience that those who do not do anything to change the trajectory of “problem” children feel helpless. Teachers and community workers are engaged in conversations and feel frustrated with the lack of options. They are overwhelmed and paralyzed. The ability to lose a child to the streets is the result of losing hope in these moments. The prevalence of inaction happens because are a great many ways to legitimate it with fatalistic excuses.

When does BSL think it is too late to act? Never. On this same Wednesday walk, we stopped by one of our dear friends to catch up. A 50-year-old woman who admits her past includes prostituting, drugs, and squatting to survive, has turned her life around. In recent years, she has worked with the support of BSL to improve her health, take care of her home, and become a better community member. She now contributes her extra medical supplies to our neighbors at Port Ministries, is always helping a neighbor find a meal, mentoring the teenager upstairs, or offering part of her own link card to help our other friends in need. A “lost cause” is now a shining light of hope for her community.

Our immediate instinct for action in ministry is to “do.” If there is not an immediate 3-step plan, we think the cause is lost. More often than not, though, people need us to “be.” Missions and ministries fail when they focus too much on doing. Creating plans for others to change their lives does not show love; it shows control and conditionality. Be. Be present, be ready to help, and be there when people make mistakes. Love unconditionally, and create the space people need to change themselves when they are ready. Change cannot be a pre-requisite for love. Love has to come first.

The story of most evil in the world has started with a child who was ignored when he or she cried out for love. Do we learn this lesson, or allow history to repeat itself with the youngest generation of the poor? On this Valentine’s day, will you give your love to those who are perceived as lost? Despite your fears or hopelessness, it is the only tool you need to act.

–Megan Sherrier, BSL

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Home.

It was a place where everyone knew your name. Your kids all grew up together and played in one another’s homes. Doors were unlocked and neighbors walked in without knocking. If you needed a cup of sugar, a place to talk or even a midnight snack, your neighbor was happy to share. The adults knew the business of all the neighborhood children, and the children learned to respect their elders. The men played chess and dominoes in the neighborhood while each and everyone greeted one another as they passed by on the sidewalk.

This sounds like the perfect suburban neighborhood or small town, right?

Wrong.

Actually, this is a description of the Cabrini-Green projects in the 60s or 70s as told to us by one of its long-time residents last week.

Even today, walking the row houses of Cabrini-Green, you will find evidence of this. Guys are on their front porches, relaxing and talking about the Bulls and other every day events. Everyone says hello to one another, and if you are looking for someone, a first name or even nickname is enough to find them. In the warmer months, you will see residents help one another fix their cars, get their hair cut, or have a barbecue. Without calling ahead, you can knock on anyone’s door and be welcomed into their home. Some families still do not lock their doors. You cannot find better hospitality.

Shocked by the ideal description? Don’t be. Suburban neighborhoods are becoming increasingly known for their isolation. It has become a trend that the more money you possess, the higher that your gate rises in front of your home and the less you are able to recall your neighbor’s names, much less their occupations, interests, and hobbies. If you ever had an emergency, how many of you would feel comfortable approaching your neighbor?

Meanwhile, poverty creates community because people are forced to realize both that they need and belong to one another, and that it is easier to survive in community than alone. The destruction of the high-rise buildings in Cabrini-Green has caused widespread grief among the poor that is unspoken in political and social circles. Did Cabrini-Green have its crime and problems? Absolutely. But it also had a sense of community that would rival the most prestigious country club. In the words of our friends, “They don’t realize, it was home to me.” The sentimental value of “home” is ignored as residents continue to get displaced and forced out of their living arrangements.

For example, an older woman who is a friend of BSL and who we have mentioned in our previous blogs on housing continues to remain in a home with toxic mold, despite the Chicago Housing Authority being given the specific problem, address, and telephone number to look into the problem. For months, she has battled with various agencies and most recently, was forced into making a rushed decision to move, being told that her Section 8 voucher would expire on February 1st. Phone calls were left unreturned, workers deflected her to other workers, apartment searches were promised that never materialized, and other mismanagement forced her out of her community and into less desirable housing, especially for her grandsons who will be vulnerable at the new location.

This woman represents countless stories of displaced residents of Cabrini-Green. Without concern for the emotional impact of being displaced, agencies are dispersing poor residents throughout the city, making these communities a dream of the past. While the poverty and crime persists, the sense of community is being lost. The poverty is now spread throughout the city, straining the ability for diminishing services to reach those who need it.

Tearing down the housing projects to create mixed-income housing and reduce crime and other problems in the area is not an evil pursuit. In fact, the end goal is necessary. However, the people displaced by this decision are neglected. These once-tight communities have been separated, sometimes in traumatic ways. Chicago Housing Authority places pressure on uneducated individuals to move quickly and to move into areas where they are not part of the community environment. Pressure and fear push them into isolating living conditions. They lose the ability to rely on friendly neighbors and need to rebuild relationships over again. This community building is not happening as it once did in the past. Something of value is being lost.

Chicago lies at a crossroads. We all have something to learn from the poor when it comes to community. Can we become vibrant communities once again and understand that we belong to one another? Or is community something Americans want to forget? Mixed income neighborhoods provide an opportunity to enhance community living that has not been actualized. Instead, communities have been eliminated and replaced with an increasing sense of isolation.

We dream of the old-fashioned communities mentioned above, but act to create isolation. During this time of change, will we embrace our neighbor or shut the door?

–Megan Sherrier, BSL

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Reality.

This past Saturday we witnessed a scene that has become all too familiar. The casket was opened for the viewing of a young man. Mourners were weeping in the front pews and holding one another for support. The family, with whom we have gathered for several funerals this month, was dressed in memorial t-shirts for the victim. A screen-printed picture accompanied by a prayer reminded the family of their lost loved one. This time, though, they placed pictures of two victims on one t-shirt side-by-side. In a sad state of efficiency, they will re-use the t-shirt for next week’s funeral, also of a young man from the family who had been shot and killed. The family sang, read the obituary, listened to the eulogy, gave personal remarks, and viewed the body one last time.

What struck Br. Jim and me was the uniqueness of this funeral. The first thing we witnessed was a “friend” of the victim being chased out of the church. In this case the victim and the shooter were in the same gang, so there were conflicting loyalties. The person who came was a friend of both the shooter and the victim, so while he came to pay his respects, some thought he had other motivations. Anger, hurt, and fear ebbed and flowed through the crowd.

The atmosphere in the church shifted drastically to a hushed piety. The victim had been hospitalized for six months and while he was able to communicate he had lost the use of most of his body, breathing by machine until he passed. The relative who led the service desired to express the victim’s conversion from a gang banger to a man who accepted Christ into his life and forgave the one who shot him. The funeral continued along this theme of hope.

The problem with this is that the victim went through a number of emotions concerning the person who shot him. While he did try to forgive, he would also stew in anger. He named the shooter, but would not tell the police. He asked for prayers and scripture readings and had a positive disposition, but he also expressed his frustration that he could do absolutely nothing for himself. He grappled with his current experience, but he also wanted his old life back.

The complexity of the victim’s emotions is a human reality. While we strive for one desire, other intentions creep in. While we know and may seek the moral high ground, our actions do not always match this will. The relationship between the friend of the victim mentioned earlier to both him and his shooter represents this complex tension. Within one person there are conflicting emotions.

Brothers and Sisters of Love enters into situations of extreme pain. In this case, healing will not take place for awhile. The family wants to believe that the victim was saved and is enjoying paradise, but this comfort does not erase the wounds. There seems to be no justice for the crime, for the guilty continue to prosper. From the family’s perspective, the death is void of meaning for the community. Therefore, their perception of heaven is in conflict with their reality in this world. Part of the problem among gangs is that the pain from these murders is carried for a long time and affects the community in negative ways.

God sees these conflicts and still loves all of us; our virtues and the parts we wish to hide. In times of tragedy, in order to find hope, we often put our best foot forward before God and suppress our true emotions. We fear displeasing an all-powerful God, and as a result, we limit God’s love for us, the very tool that has the power to transform our situation. Presenting our true hurts and desires before God liberates our concept of God from a God who needs to be pleased to a God who understands our situation, healing us and bringing hope for the future.

–Megan Sherrier and Br. Jim Fogarty, BSL

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Would You Live Like This? (Part Two)

 NP Lanthrum has helped Brothers and Sisters of Love by photographing the living conditions of our friends in Cabrini Green and Back of the Yards that we wrote about two weeks ago. Below are photos of various damages and living conditions. A picture tells 1000 words. Click on the thumbnails to view the slide show. See for yourself and let us know what you think should be done:

A burned out home of a friend of BSL is left abandoned

The source of a leaky roof that the landlord “can’t afford to fix” in Back of the Yards

Warped floor that landlord also cannot “afford to fix”

Our friends attempt to paint over toxic mold in their bathroom

A gate in disrepair

Back of the Yards

Broken glass and boarded up homes are the norm. Many of these buildings are temporary homes to the otherwise homeless

Graffiti and litter decorate the neighborhood

A line of foreclosed homes in Back of the Yards

There are more chains than welcome mats

These kids must live in the house of the following pictures…

Leaking roof

Toxic mold in the bathroom

The walls are in various states of disrepair

Toxic mold flourishes in the living room

Would you live like this? She must.

–Megan Sherrier, BSL

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